


kick, push

by storywreck



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Fluff, One Shot, Skateboarding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26710084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storywreck/pseuds/storywreck
Summary: Even Irene's laughter is beautiful, as it echoes across the empty park. Wendy’s cheeks burn and burn and burn.
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Son Seungwan | Wendy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	kick, push

**Author's Note:**

> A skateboarding AU that no one asked for, really.

Wendy starts having second thoughts about all of this.

She wipes the sweat off her forehead with the sleeve of her plaid shirt, the noon sun burning down a blazing trail on her neck. She squints across the skate park, the hot asphalt creating a mirage before her very eyes.

Not a soul in sight. Not in this hell of a heat.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

And now her arm cast feels stifling and itchy. She starts picking at the fraying fiberglass.

“I’m this close to breaking this cast off." Wendy drawls out, distracted. "It’s itchy as fuck.”

“Don’t you dare.”

The girl casts a sheepish, apologetic glance at her companion. Among the cracked, shining concrete, Irene is beautiful. Ripped jeans. Loose tank top. A faded nike cap on top of a messy ponytail. Despite her snarky tone, the look Irene gives her is unbelievably soft and open.

Wendy swallows and looks away, afraid of being caught staring.

“You’re lucky I’m even letting you do this.” Irene snips, flipping her hair as she carefully adjusts the camera on top of the stabilizer. “Imagine if your mom finds out.”

Wendy lets out a low whine. “Geez, it’s been more than a month! I've got some thick bones. I can handle this.”

“I know.” Irene smiles despite herself. She lazily rolls her skateboard- its deck chipped and scratched- beneath her washed-out vans. “After all, with that thick skull of yours-”

“Hey!”

“I meant that as a compliment!”

Even Irene’s laughter is beautiful, as it echoes across the empty park. Wendy’s cheeks burn and burn and _burn_.

“So, are you ready or not? Time is ticking.”

“Right, okay. Yeah. Sure. I got this.” Wendy takes a deep breath, fixing her beanie over her damp hair. Anxiety and adrenaline rushes between her ears, drowning everything out. She tests her trucks one last time, the board creaking underneath her feet.

“I’m ready.”

And so the next hour is a blur, mixed in dirt-covered knees, wheels against concrete and sun sweat. Wendy tries every trick in her arsenal: the 360 flip she’s been practicing for two weeks. A messy backside air that almost costs her another arm. She is most of all crazy proud of a smith grind she pulls off last-minute along a rough, sloping rail. All throughout, Irene follows, recording every cruise and slide and slip.

“Shit!”

So it was inevitable, really. Wendy finds herself staring at the blinding sky, sprawled on the scorching, rough pavement after a nasty spill. The sting of gravel against the bloody, raw skin of her elbow blows out her senses.

Irene is by her side instantly. Breath hot against her face. The camera lies forgotten on the ground.

“You okay?! Wendy?”

Irene- _beautiful, wonderful Irene_ \- swims in and out of her vision. She closes her eyes, overwhelmed. Truthfully, Wendy doesn’t know if she’s more dazed because of the fall, or of Irene being so, so close. Maybe it’s both.

“I’m more than alright,” she finally murmurs a breath later, blonde-brown locks plastered across her sweat-covered forehead. She cracks open an eye and smiles at Irene unabashedly. “You totally swept me off my feet, by the way. You’re an angel.”

Irene scoffs, shoving the younger woman lightly as she rolls her eyes. “Gravity didn’t knock the greasiness out of you, it seems. Too bad.”

“But you love me for it,” Wendy grins, before grimacing in pain. “Okay, shit. This is gonna sting like a bitch tomorrow morning, I’m dead sure.”

Irene gracefully gets up to her feet, and offers a hand. The skateboarder accepts it gingerly. She can already see the worry lining the edges of the other girl’s face as she notices the blood. Wendy softens at the sight.

“I’m sorry, unnie. I'm okay. That was my last trick I swear.”

Irene brightens. She grabs the camera from the floor. “So we’re good? You sure you're okay?”

“I’ll live. And I’m sure you got enough footage that’ll make me a hundred percent more awesome than I really am.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re amazing,” Irene huffs, pushing the discarded board towards Wendy’s direction. “Even without the camera on.”

How does she always find a way to say these weird, soft things that makes Wendy’s heart skip a few beats? All she can do is nod and fumble as she tucks her board underneath her busted arm.

Wendy realizes Irene still hasn’t let go of her hand. She can’t help but compare the smooth ridges of the girl’s palms to her beat-up skateboard, its blue and red paint peeling off the edges. Both feels solid and warm and real under Wendy’s touch.

“Come on.” Irene gently tugs her arm, grounding her back to reality. She points at the shaded area at the edge of the park. “Let's get you patched up. And I know you’ve got some snacks hiding inside that huge backpack of yours.”

The town has long abandoned restoring the skate park to its former glory. Wild grass has stubbornly invaded over the broken pavements. Most of the rails are rusted and caked in mud. Empty beer cans litter the ramps, its concrete worn out from years of use. Wendy punts a few over the fence, just for kicks. She could almost taste in the air the reckless rebellion of the past teenagers that lingered here.

There is suddenly the brush of Irene's fingers against her elbow. It's electric, not at all painful- enough to make her hold her breath.

"Don't be such a baby." Irene whispers as Wendy flinches from her touch. She places the gauze pad over the wound.

"I’m not." she wheezes out. Irene meets her gaze, her face so close. She can smell her sweat mixed with her shampoo and right then, _something_ shifts. Wendy opens her mouth- wants to say what she wants to say, but then Irene moves away and the moment is over before it even began.

“I’ve got some gatorade and a bag of chips." Wendy can only say. She clears her dry throat. "Your favorite.”

Irene smiles and opens the bag perched on the stairs, and it’s easy to see she has done this a thousand times before. Wendy is used to the sight. But she doesn’t know why this particular moment prickles the corners of her eyes.

“Thanks for letting me do this.” she blurts out suddenly. Irene freezes and looks at her. Wendy fights the urge to duck her head. This time she stares back, unshaken. “I know you’ve been busy with your ballet classes lately and- I just. Thank you. I don’t know what else to say.”

“You love skateboarding.” Irene says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I know how important this is to you.”

“Yeah, but…”

“And the lessons can wait.” Irene says firmly. She takes a sip from the gatorade bottle and hands it to Wendy. She feels the graze of Irene’s knuckles before they pull away. “The recital isn’t until next month anyway.”

Wendy nods, more to herself than to anyone else. Her throat is parched. She takes a swig from the bottle. “Then that’s one way I can make it up to you. I’ll be there.”

“Thank you.”

“And the next recital after that. And the next. And-”

“Wendy.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Thank you_.” Irene says it again, and there it is, that same tender gaze that she always gives when Wendy does something either incredibly stupid or touching. It takes every ounce of her being to ignore the flash of heat that flutters in her chest.

“A-and Seulgi will be there of course!” she continues, her voice cracking. “And Yeri. Joy, too. Hopefully once she comes back from her that acting stint she got from out of town.”

“Hopefully.” Irene’s eyes flits over the ramps and half-pipes. A sort of nostalgia clouds over her expression. “I wish they could come. I tried to line up our schedules but…”

“It’s the thought that counts.” Wendy pats Irene on the head as she shoves the gatorade back in her bag. “But dang, can you imagine Yeri and Joy running around like a bunch of babies? And what if Seulgi brought her boombox here? That would've been sick.”

Irene wrinkles her nose. She swats Wendy’s hands away, scowling. “Okay, you know what? I take that back. I can do without the babysitting and the hipster music shit you keep on blasting all the time.”

Wendy's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes growing comically wide. “Whoa now, that’s way below the belt! _The 1975_ is perfection personified. I’m absolutely offended! The fuck!”

“You skaters always have the worst taste in music.”

Before Wendy could react, Irene has already taken off; the vibrancy of her laughter fills the air. She watches the way Irene bounces with each step and _oh_ , how many times has she wished she could bottle Irene’s laughs and smiles and tuck it into her pocket. Keep it forever. But for now, she settles for the secret satisfaction of being the reason for that sound.

It is enough. 

“So are you coming or what?! I’ll race you to the arcade!”

Wendy chuckles as she shoulders her backpack. “So you can crush me at _Dance Dance Revolution_ for the hundredth time?”

The ballet dancer, part-time videographer looks back, grinning from ear to ear. Even from the distance, Irene shines unbearably bright.

“You beat me at karaoke all the time! Fair is fair!”

And this time, it’s Wendy who laughs, loudly and freely, and she rolls her board and picks up her speed to chase Irene, already knowing she would follow her to the ends of the earth without question and without fail. She feels the wind kissing her face, the sun warming her chest, and she drifts and drifts and _drifts_ , towards wherever her heart is headed. 

**Author's Note:**

> A few hours ago, Wendy posted her first update on IG in eight months. I'm so happy guys I think I might cry just a little bit. Welcome back, Wendy.
> 
> Anyway, I haven't written a fanfic in like, eight years I think. Damn. Forgive me if I seem a little rusty. Dumb Dumb era Wendy/Irene pretty much inspired me to write this. 
> 
> So thanks 2015. Those were good times.


End file.
